


Adjustments

by Greed-Lings Girl (musicofthespheres)



Series: After 'Verse [2]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Pain, automail adjustments, but only barely, ed starts to suspect his feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-28
Updated: 2018-09-28
Packaged: 2019-07-18 13:48:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16119749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/musicofthespheres/pseuds/Greed-Lings%20Girl
Summary: Ed returns home from a three-month trip and Winry discovers his automail needs some serious adjustments already.





	Adjustments

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, I'm new to the fandom! If you love FMA/B and post about it on tumblr a lot, please tell me! And also direct me to your favourite EdWin fics please ;3; 
> 
> I hope you enjoy this next installment of the After 'Verse! :)

“Hmm,” Winry hums as she works. She keeps glancing between Ed’s automail leg and his flesh one. 

“Hmm?” Ed echoes back. “What’s ‘hmm’ mean?” He props himself up on his elbows so he can see what she’s doing. 

Winry ignores him and pulls out a measuring tape. “Hmm,” she says again, holding it against the calf part. “You said your hips have been sore. How long were you gone this last time?” 

Ed counts on his fingers. “Only three months,” he says. “It can’t be in _that_ bad of shape. I didn’t even fight anyone this time.” 

Winry goes back to her cryptic humming. “This is going to take a bit longer than expected. I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to take it off. Will you be okay with this for a few days?” she asks, waving the simple prosthetic she makes Ed use when she has major adjustments to make. 

Ed blows a puff of air that causes his bangs to flutter. “Ugh, I guess. Don’t expect me to get many chores done on that thing, though.” The thought strikes him that perhaps he could learn how to tune up his own automail, now that he has nothing better to do--now that he has no purpose in life. 

After all, he never did figure out what comes _after_. Al’s path is pretty clear: he can still use alchemy. He might not become a state alchemist, but he’s already being scouted by the various alchemical research organizations that have cropped since defeating the homunculi. 

“Alright, this is going to hurt-” Winry says at the same moment she severs his nerve connection to the automail. 

Blinding pain shoots up his stump and his vision is blocked out by a curtain of red. He’ll _never_ get used to that sensation, but he knows it’s a necessary evil if he wants to have a functioning leg. Suddenly, there’s the sensation of floating, and then he hears his name being called and wonders who the hell is trying to wake him up when he’s just gone to sleep...

“ _Ed_!” It’s Winry. Why is _Winry_ here? 

He opens his eyes a crack to see her concerned face hovering over his. 

“I’m sorry. That must have been a bad one--you passed out,” she says. “All the color’s gone from your face.” She places her hand on his clammy forehead. “Let me get you some water. Stay put.” 

Disobediently, Ed tries to sit up only to find himself caught off balance by the lack of mass on one side of his body and the dizziness. The disconnected automail lays on the bed beside him. That’s odd--nothing _looks_ wrong with it. Usually he can tell if it’s been badly beaten up or in need of serious repairs. This time, it looks totally fine. He feels woozy and nearly falls onto his back again.

Winry returns with a glass of water and a plate of sandwiches. “Al made these. It looks like Granny has him working in the kitchen with her.” Her amused smile almost drops when she sees Ed trying to move already. 

“Good, the boy needs to learn how to fend for himself now that he won’t have me or that giant metal body to keep him safe.” 

“Didn’t I tell you not to move?” Winry asks, picking up the automail and holding it under her arm as she places the plate down next to him on the bed. “You’re so stubborn.” 

Ed grins and weakly picks up a sandwich, hoisting himself upright again; his arms feel like jelly and he’d really like to continue laying down, thanks. “I didn’t _stand_ ,” he points out. “Which is what you meant, right?” He shoots her a mischievous smirk, knowing he can get away with it because she’s not going to hit an _invalid_ , is she? (That’s a sack of bullshit, but this time it looks like he is safe.)

“It wasn’t,” Winry states, but picks up a sandwich for herself before taking the leg down to her workbench. When she returns, she refits the old prosthetic for him and adjusts it for length. It’s been a long time since he’s had to use it. “There. Stand on it for me, would you?” 

Ed does as he’s told (for once). His nerves are still all tingly from the disconnect, but the added pressure of the prosthetic against the old scar tissue causes him to wince. “Yep, it’ll work,” he manages to say. “Now if you don’t mind, I think I’d like to take a nap.” 

“It’s eleven in the morning,” Winry says in confusion. “Come on. Let’s eat and then I can take you on a short walk.” 

“I’m not a _dog_ ,” Ed complains. It does sound nice, though.

===

Winry walks on his left, her arm looped through his to help him keep balance.

He doesn’t tell her that he can balance _just fine_ , thank you, because it feels nice to have her so close. His face reddens at the thought and he looks away so she doesn’t see and ask why.

“Oh look,” Winry says, pointing at the general store. “We’ve made it pretty far down the lane. Why don’t we pick up something for dinner before we head back?” 

“Sure, whatever you want,” Ed says. They approach the door and he reaches after her as she lets go of him, apparently trusting him to stay upright on his own once they’re inside. She takes off to browse the selection, and the shopkeeper, a portly woman with glasses and an apron, smiles after her. 

“She’s happy you boys are back, you know. She worries after you.” 

“And how do you know that?” Ed snaps a little meaner than he intends, his voice growing tighter and higher in pitch. “I mean, does she talk about us that much?” The words are just falling from his lips like a waterfall now--no stopping them. “Doesn’t she have anything _better_ to do?” 

The shopkeeper gives him a knowing smile. “I might be old, Ed, but I’m not _blind_ ,” she says before turning back to her duties at the counter. She eyes him over her shoulder with an infuriating smile. “It’s okay, I know you’ve missed her too.” 

Embarrassed and aghast at the accusation, Ed makes to stomp toward Winry--and nearly falls flat on his face the moment he takes the first step. The damn prosthetic, unresponsive as it is, can never properly replace his automail. He grabs the counter to steady himself before finding his balance and hobbling over to Winry. 

“I think I’m out of practice,” he huffs. His cheeks have been burning since the little quip the shopkeeper made, but Winry’s going to assume it’s because he ate dust and he’s fine letting her think so. 

“Don’t worry, your leg will be fixed up soon enough.” 

“What needs doing, anyway?” Ed enquires as he picks up a tomato and squeezes it with his right hand to test for freshness. It’s not just Al who’s had to get used to being whole again, and Ed takes every opportunity he can to run his hand along different surfaces. It’s not like he couldn’t touch _anything_ before, since he still had his left arm, but it still feels new somehow. He absentmindedly strokes the tomato with his thumb, relishing its soothing texture as Winry speaks. 

“The length. You’ve grown at least an inch since the last time I tuned it. I’d almost chalk it up to a miracle.” 

That gives Ed pause. “Really? You’re not pulling my leg, are you?” 

Winry snorts. 

“What?” Ed asks, confused. “What’d I say?” He watches as Winry tries to hold back her laughter before losing control, doubling over and clutching her middle as the laughter racks her body. 

“Pulling your _leg_ ,” she manages to sayin between giggles. Her eyes are filled with mirth as she gazes up at him, her face the perfect picture of happiness. 

“Oh,” Ed says, realization dawning on him. “ _Oh._ ” He joins Winry’s laughing fit and claps his hand on her shoulder as tears begin to stream down his face. 

For a moment, it feels like they’re kids again, happy and with not a care in the world. Winry tries to stop laughing first and straightens up before smiling wistfully at him. “Oh, Ed,” she says as the last of her giggles begin to die down. “I never knew you could be so funny.” 

“ _Hey_ ,” he replies venomlessly, still laughing. “I can be _plenty_ funny.” 

“Sure,” Winry replies and ruffles his hair before flouncing off toward the meat selection. “Whatever you say.” 

Ed watches her go and smiles to himself, contentment and warm fuzzy feelings quelling the years of anguish he’d endured. If he could make her laugh like that every day, he thinks he could die a happy man.

===

“Okay, deep breath, I’m going to reconnect it now.” This time, Winry gives Ed enough time to brace himself. He sets his jaw as she strokes the flesh of his upper thigh to soothe him. “Ready?”

He nods, _gulps_ when her fingers accidentally brush a little too high across the sensitive skin below his belly, before she uses her other hand to reattach the automail to his nervous system. 

“ _Gnn._ ” Ed hisses and takes a few quick, short breaths before the pain subsides. “Okay,” he whispers. “I’m good.” 

Winry runs her hand through his hair. “You sure?” 

“Yeah.”

She places her hand on his shoulder to steady him as he sits up and it feels like little sparks of electricity flicker across his skin where her flesh meets his. “You got it?” she says, watching carefully as he places his feet on the ground and pushes himself off the bed to stand. 

Oh, that’s _much_ better. He twists the joint in his hip and realizes she wasn’t kidding about the growth. The automail _had_ been too short, and now the pressure on his right leg is gone. His relief must show on his face, because Winry makes a satisfied noise as she watches him move about. 

“Perfect. Now, the garden needs weeding, but you can do that whenever,” she says, pulling her hand away and turning to leave him to his own devices. 

_Wait_ , he wants to say, his fingertips just missing hers as he reaches out. Instead he is left standing in silence and wondering when he began enjoying her company so much.

**Author's Note:**

> Come check out [my tumblr](http://jadefyre.tumblr.com), where I'll probably be curating a ton of fma/b content :D (I also post a lot of DBZ, the occasional Horizon: Zero Dawn, Avatar:TLA, and all the other fandoms in my sidebar)


End file.
